


Teach Me

by felicitous



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: AU, Abuse, M/M, Student!Clint, Teacher!Phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicitous/pseuds/felicitous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is a student of Phil's and he doesn't understand a thing about him until he reads the autobiographical story Clint wrote for an assignment, then everything become painfully clear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me

 “Hey Phil!” a voice called from the opposite end of the classroom and the man called didn't even have to look up for m his paperwork to know who it was.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me by my first name?” he replied, feigning irritation, though in truth it took much more to irritate him, especially where it concerned this particular teen.

“Oh come on, I call all everyone by their first name,” the blond scoffed as he moved closer, his heavy booted footsteps almost silent on the linoleum floor.

“I don't hear you calling Principal Fury by his first name,” Not that Phil would either to be completely honest.

“That's cause if I did you'd never see me alive again, but I call Steve by his name,” he was sitting on the edge of Phil's desk now, turned to the side slightly so that he could continue to look at the English teacher.

Phil sighed and looked up then, doing his best to ignore the jean-clad ass on the papers he still needed to grade. “What do you want, Clint?” It would be best to get this over quickly since he had a headache from a certain blonds best friend, Tony Stark, who had been in his last class and he really wanted to get home before it got too late.

“Well, I’m kinda failing your class right now,” he drawled out, his voice dropping slightly. He seemed perfectly sure of himself, but Phil noticed his cheeks were turning a soft pink and his hands beginning to tremble and those two things made the older mans stomach clench.

“I know.”

“I was wondering if we could fix that today.”

Phil had a bad feeling that he knew where this was going. If he was being honest with himself he would admit that the boy was very attractive but that was the problem in and of itself. He was a boy still and Phil was his teacher. “I don't think so. You are missing to many assignments, but when you do get them done you can bring them to me and I will grade them immediately.”

Clint’s smile faltered slightly, the nervousness showing in his eyes for a brief second before the inviting look came back. “I kinda had something else in mind,” he purred leaning in closer, his face growing even more red.

“Just do your work, Clint,” Phil ordered as he pushed him away, hoping that he himself wasn’t blushing.

The blonds shoulders dropped along with his smile and he climbed off the desk. “I'll bring them to you when I finish, Mr. Coulson.”

Phil was thrown off by the sudden change but thought it best to to say anything. “Thank you and be sure to keep up on you current homework as well,” he called after him as he left.

When he was gone he buried his hands in his face and sighed. There was no way he was going to get his grading done now. God, that was a strange kid.”

***

Tony was leaning against the wall right outside, waiting for Clint. He grinned at him and stood up straight when he came out. “So, how'd it go?”

“How do you think?” Clint growled, “I don't know why I let you talk me into this it was a stupid idea.”

“Oh come on, no it's not. Besides this is just phase one all you needed to do was get his interest.”

“Trust me, Tony, he's not interested. He barley even looked at me.”

Tony just shrugged and patted his friend on the back. “Patience. Besides it could have been worse. I mean Steve kicked me out AND gave me extra homework.”

Clint snorted and began to walk out of the school, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “What did you say to him?”

“That I’d fuck him for an 'A',” Tony answered, walking alongside his friend.

The blond rolled his eyes and chuckled, pushing the doors open to go outside. “And here I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius.”

“Oh shut up. The only class you're passing right now is P.E.” Tony snapped, punching the other teen in the arm. “How do you even fail English? You speak the language.”

“I get distracted a lot. Plus Phil wants me to type up everything.”

Tony's face was serious now. “You know you can use one of my computers or the schools.”

“Tony, we've been over this before. I don't have time to do it at school and you are overly protective of your computers.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m working on that, but have you at least tried to talk to him about it? See if he can cut you some slack.”

Silence greeted his question and Clint looked away, staring intently at the ground as his hands dug though his pockets. The answer was obviously 'no' and would most likely stay that way, knowing Clint.

Tony sighed and watched as he climbed on to his bike once he found his keys before he finally broke the heavy silence. “You're coming to my place tonight, right?”

Clint shook his head. “No, I.... I need to go home and do somethings,” his voice was heavy and Tony could tell how his friend really didn't want to go home. Not that he blamed him, but there was no way Clint was about to ask for his help, or to stay at his place permanently,even though he'd already offered that. The blond always went home.

“I'll see you when you come back,” Toy said to himself as he watched Clint speed off.

***

Phil frowned down at the role he was currently filling out for his first period class. He hadn't been in a very good mood, not that he ever really was in one, since last week when Clint had stopped by after school. His mood had only worsened by the fact that the responsible student hadn't been in class for the rest of the week. Apparently he was pulling one of his suspiciously long disappearances that he always returned from covered in bruises and cuts.

Almost as if on cue the door slammed open with a bang so loud everyone, including Phil, jumped and Clint came limping in, looking like hell had just spit him out. He had a black eye, a split lip and was favoring his left leg. His clothes were torn and the dark color contrasted greatly with the unnatural pale of his skin. Not only that, but it seemed like he'd lost weight. He muttered a quiet apology and took his seat next to Natasha.

She gave him a worried glare and rested a hand on his “What happened?” she whispered.

“I got hit by a car,” it sounded more like a question than an answer, but it seemed to answer her question because she nodded and gave his hand a quick squeeze before pulling hers away.

Phil gave him a curious look, but didn't say anything. Not many people did when the blond would show up looking like this, they were all afraid to. Instead he just marked him tardy on the role and stood up to begin class.

“Today we are going to start writing an autobiographical story.” there was a chorus of groans from the students and Clint may as well have turned to stone, one hand clenching his desk tightly. “You will be writing about a time when your life was changed. What it was like before, what it was, how it happened and the difference it has made in your life. They will be due next time and we will be reading them in class. Grab your things we are going to the 608 lab.”

Phil watched the class shuffle out and into the lab. Well, he watched Natasha drag Clint along beside her. He sat in the far corner of the room and leaned against the wall staring at one of his ratty notebooks while the redhead got to work on the computer beside him.

For about fifteen minutes he did nothing then he nudged Natasha with his foot, asked her something to which she nodded then he started writing. His hands moved swiftly and confidently over the page and he was so intent on what he was writing that he barely noticed when the bell rang.

“Clint,” Phil called as he started to leave and the teen froze like he'd just been shot at6

“Yes, sir?” he asked, staring at his feet.

“I'd like to talk with you,” he answered taking a step towards the blond.

Clint flinched slightly and back up “I'm sorry I have to go. My next class is on the other side of the school.” he said quickly before sprinting out of the room, leaving behind his very confused teacher.

***

“I knew I’d find you here,” Tony said as he pushed the ceiling tile out of the way so that he could move up to join his friend.” Clint shrugged but didn't turn to look at him and Tony let out a heavy high. “Tasha already told me how bad it is so stop hiding.”

“I'm not hiding, I’m thinking,” the blond snapped as he turned around slowly.

“What are you thinking about then?”

“Just an assignment for class. It's nothing big.” Clint shrugged once more then pushed the other teen down and out of the way so that he could get out of the ceiling.

“Well what ever that assignment is you missed all of school,”

“Thanks for finding me, Tony.” Clint said softly as hefted his backpack.

Tony pulled him into a hug, careful not to hurt the blond. “Of course.”

When they pulled away Clint gave him a weak smile. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

He sounded like he meant it so Tony smiled back and nodded. “Take care of yourself,” he called as he watched Clint leave. He had a bad feeling though and he couldn't shake it.

It made perfect sense the next day though, cause Clint wasn't there. No one had seen him or heard from him all day and he wasn't answering his phone either. It was driving Tony crazy. He'd checked all of the spots where Clint would usually be found and nothing.

Tony was climbing into his car, about ready to go to Clint's place to see if he was there when his phone rang. It was his mother, much to his disappointment. She wasn't the person he needed to talk to right now so he ignored it the first, second and third time she called.

When he answered he didn't even have time to speak. “What is your one blond friends name again?”

“Clint, why?”

“I need his last name too.”

“Barton, why?”

There was a sad sounding sigh “He's in the hospital right now. I thought I would check to make sure it was him.”

“What, what happened? Where is he?” Tony demanded starting the car and speeding of in the direction of the hospital. He had a feeling he knew what had happened, or at least who was responsible. Clint's father had gone to far this time and he was going to make sure that he paid dearly for that.

“He's in the ICU, Tony. I don't know what happened but he doesn't look good. I barely recognized him. I’d wait for you to get here, but I have somewhere else I need to be right now. I'll make sure that the nurses let you in though.”

Tony grunted in response then hung up, throwing his phone on to the passenger seat. He was speeding faster than usual but right now he didn't care. All that mattered was that his best friend, who hated hospitals and avoided them like the plague was in one right now and Tony wasn't there with him.

Tony was immediately directed to Clint’s room upon his arrival. The sight that greeted him when he entered broke his heart. Clint was laying in bed covered in bandages and attached to multiple machines. His face was deformed by stitches and swollen bruises and he was wearing an oxygen mask to breath. Clint looked so broken lying there in that hospital bed that Tony couldn't help feeling somewhat responsible.

If only he had been more adamant about Clint moving in with him. If only he'd done something about that abusive drunk of a father. If only hadn't let Clint go home yesterday. There were so many things he could have done that would have saved Clint from this, but he hadn't done anything. He'd just let Clint live his life the way he wanted, and he apparently wasn't ready to give up on his father yet. Tony didn't understand it, but to be honest it didn't matter right now. He would never let Clint’s father anywhere near him again. It was his job as a best friend.

Tony pulled over one of the chairs and sat down beside the bed, watching over Clint like a mother hen. The nurses would come in periodically to check on him, but they never said anything. He passed the time by letting the others know. Natasha told him she would be over when she finished her shift at work. Pepper told him that she would take care of things for him, make sure that Clint's father got what he deserved. Loki asked if there was anything he could do and Bruce replied on Loki’s phone because he'd broke his own. After that it was a few more hours of brooding silence before a soft groan caught Tony's attention. He looked up to find bleary, sky blue eyes peeking out at him from behind swollen eye lids.

“Tony?” he croaked, “Where am I?”

“You're in the hospital, Clint. What the hell happened?”

Silence.

Tony sighed. “Is there anything you need?”

The blond looked thoughtful for a moment then he looked around the room and motioned to where his backpack was sitting on a chair in the corner. Tony gave him a confused look and went over and grabbed it, bringing it back over. He opened it and gently set it on Clint's lap, waiting for him to take out whatever it was that was so important.

The blond pulled out a mutilated looking notebook, flipped to a paged covered in his purple, scrawling handwriting and handed it over to Tony. The teacher name at the top told him what it was for and he gave his friend an incredulous look.

“Really? You want me to turn in your homework for you? You're in the fucking hospital, Clint! School can wait.”

Clint gave him a pleading look. “Please,”

Tony sighed again and shook his head. “Fine, whatever. I'll take it to him tomorrow,” He rolled his eyes when the battered blond gave him a weak smile. “The things I do for you.”

***

Phil was admittedly confused when Tony approached him after class with a ratty notebook that looked suspiciously like Clint’s. “Can I help you with something, Mr. Stark,”

“Yeah, Clint asked me to give this to you,” He handed over the notebook confirming.

“Why didn't he bring it to class today himself?” Phil asked trying not to smile and the scrawling purple handwriting that was uniquely Clint Barton's.

“He's in the hospital right now.”

The words were like a slap to the face and Phil's head snapped up. “He's what? What happened?”

“You'll understand wen you read this,” the teen replied tapping the notebook before leaving. He paused at the door though to say just one more thing. “Room 215 in the ICU. Just in case you were wondering.”

Phil watched in confusion as Tony left, the door slamming shut behind him. When he was gone Phil sat down in his chair and began to read

_Clint Barton_

_Mr. Coulson_

_A1 English_

_Autobiography_

_When I was a child I spent a lot of my time dreaming about running away. I did, well, tried a lot, but I was always caught and brought home. After a while I began to realize that I was never going to escape. I was alone in the world. No one understood me and no one cared to either._

_By the time High School came I was more used to being alone than to being around people, so I was very socially awkward. I didn't know how to make friends and I wasn't quite ready to try either. I avoided people instead and they avoided me._

_I was fine with that, I never expected it to change, but it did._

_I met Tony Stark in Physics. He was assigned to help me because I was the stupid, failing kid and he was the smart kid. Make sense right? He was just supposed to help me and make sure I passed, but he did more than that._

_Tony would make me sit with him and his friends at lunch, assemblies and all those other school event things we're forced to go to. He included me in everything he did. It was really weird at first, something I was not used to and I never thought I would be, but eventually I got used to it. I became comfortable hanging out with him and I even became good friends with his friends. Life was finally staring to look up for me._

_But like everything in my life it wasn't meant to last_

_One day they found some of my bruises, one's I hadn't noticed were visible. Usually my dad's careful not to hit me in places that show, well he used to anyway. As times gone by he's gotten sloppier and sloppier, not that anyone ever really noticed or cared when they did. Until then._

_When Tony saw me that day he was absolutely lived. He was so pissed he was red. He demanded I tell him what had happened, who had hurt me. I didn't though, I couldn't. So I did what I always do._

_I ran._

_I didn't know it then, but Tony followed me, stubborn as ever and determined to find out what was going on. He spied on me for an entire week before he finally confronted me. He told me what he'd seen. How he'd seen my father get completely wasted and take out his anger on me. He saw it all._

_He wanted me to move in with him, but once again that was something I couldn't do. That would be like admitting I was weak and that I couldn't take care of my own problems on my own. I told myself that I didn't need his help, that deep down my father still cared for me because that is what I really wanted. I wanted someone to love me._

_Looking back now I can see how naïve that was and still is. I should have taken Tony up on his offer instead of just spending the night at his place for a couple days out of the week. I didn't though, I had this irrational pride, this belief that I could take care of myself. I know how stupid that sounds but it's true._

_My life may not have changed much to most, but for me, Tony made all the difference. The only reason I've lasted this long is because he reminded me of what it's like to be happy again. It was because of him that I began to think that maybe, just maybe someone could love me._

Phil set the notebook down on his desk gently and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't believe what he'd just read. He had always assumed that there was something wrong with Clint's home life but he could never be certain. The boy was always so cheerful and cocky, always smiling always sure of himself, even when he showed up to school looking like he'd been used as punching bag. Apparently that wasn't the case. It all made sense now though, why the blond would disappear for days on end, how he was often unable to do his homework. Phil doubted that he owned a computer.

However, none of that was the reason this had hit him so hard. It was that last line, the line about being loved. That just made his chest ache and a question ring in his mind. Could that be what Clint had been trying to communicate to him that day he climbed onto Phil's desk, asking for an 'A'. He wasn't sure, but if that was true then Tony's comment about the room Clint was staying made a hell of a lot more sense. Making up his mind then he stood and pulled his jacket on and left, taking the notebook with him.

The drive to the hospital was a lot short than he had expected it to be and before he knew it he was standing in front of the Clint's hospital room with no idea what to say, or why he was really even there. He stared at the wooden door for what felt like eternity and was about to turn and leave when it opened. Loki and Natasha gave him a confused look then the boys face split into a grin that made Phil's blood run cold. He then whispered something to the redhead who smirked and nodded before walking off.

“He's waiting for you,” Loki said as he stepped past him, “Good luck, Phil.”

Phil was rooted to the spot with confusion for a few seconds before he finally reopened the door and went inside. Clint was laying on the bed with his eyes closed, his skin was discolored by bruises, his right leg was in a thick cast and his head covered in a white bandage, that hinted towards a more serious injury. When he heard the door close he smiled.

“So what'd you guys sneak-” he stop when he found his English teacher standing awkwardly with a notebook clutched tightly in his hands. “Oh. Um, hi, Mr. Coulson. What are you doing here?”

Despite how many times he'd told Clint to call him that he hated it when he did, it just didn't sound right. “I got your story,” he answered, cause in all honesty that was why he was here, and sat down in the chair next closest to the bed.

Clint averted his eyes and flushed slightly and pulled his oxygen mask down so he could speak easier. “I see. What'd you think?”

“I have a few questions?” Clint nodded so he took that as permissions to ask them. “Do you really think that it's only a possibility for people to love you?”

Clint looked taken aback by the question and he moved the mask back as he struggled to breath for a few moments, making Phil sorta. After a while he began to breath normally and pulled back the mask to speak. “Yes and no. Tony and the others have shown me that people do care about me, but that's all I really know, the love of friends. Also I don't really know anything about it, how to love. I’m still awkward around people.” his voice got lighter as he finished and Phil leaned over, moving the mask back onto his face.

They sat in silence after that, both lost in their thought. Finally Phil spoke up, his voice quiet. “Would you like to learn how?”

Clint looked him, eyes wide, as if he'd just told him he was a secret agent or something. “What? But when.... What?”

“Well for starters there was no way I would say yes to something like that because you are underage and a student of mine. Secondly, if you wanted attention from me there are much better ways of doing it. No matter what Stark tells you something like that will not work.”

Clint's swollen lips twitched up in a smile. “You knew it was Tony?”

“It had his signature written all over it. But you still need to answer my question, Clint.” Phil didn't want to push him for an answer, but he was rather anxious for reasons he wasn't sure he could explain.

Clint was silent again, his face turned thoughtful. When he finally did speak though, there was a soft smile on his lips. “I'd like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case some of you don't know before you yell at me for portraying Clint in an 'odd' way please understand that that is the mentality of most abused children. That is how they think and how they feel a lot of the time and that is a major part of his character for this. That is all I have to say.


End file.
